


...she has no other choice

by Kavi Leighanna (kleighanna)



Series: Homecoming [6]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleighanna/pseuds/Kavi%20Leighanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sixth time, she has no choice. </p><p>The minute she hears about New York, she's booking a plane ticket to DC under and alias. Because she has to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	...she has no other choice

The sixth time, she has no choice.

The minute she hears about New York, the Replicator – and she has fingers in enough pies, she can’t help it – she’s on a plane. She’s not entirely sure what makes her do it, but she books the ticket under one of her aliases. She keeps a couple of them active from her time in Paris, just in case. It’s the hunted woman in her that can’t seem to help it. Now, she’s thankful for it.

She rents a car under the same name too, because it just makes sense, and calls Jessica. The woman is pleasant enough on the phone and either Aaron hasn’t said anything or Jessica knows her well enough that she doesn’t question when Emily says she’s coming by to get Jack. She consoles herself by staying for tea.

Then she bundles Jack into the car and they head back to the Hotchner apartment. The boy is bouncing and Emily can’t help but echo how happy he is. They sing along to the radio and Jack even does the most adorable wiggle dance in his booster seat. They swing hands as they make their way up to the apartment.

She’s glad, in some odd way, for the paranoia that came with being hunted. She checks, surreptitiously, to make sure there’s nothing suspicious and arms the alarm the moment they’re inside. Jack, thankfully, doesn’t think much of it.

It takes twenty-four hours from the moment she lands for Aaron to walk through that front door. And he definitely looks worse for wear.

“Daddy!”

He’s surprised, but the smile he gives Jack is absolutely genuine. He wraps Jack up tight, then meets her eyes. She smiles nervously, twisting her hands. She’s taken a massive risk and she knows that, had known that when she’d bearded the plane.

“What are you doing here?”

She makes herself meet his gaze. “Erin.”

The devastation flashes through his eyes and is gone just as fast. She thinks that’s because of Jack. He doesn’t ask anymore questions while they tuck Jack in bed – it’s late, after all – and they creep out of the boy’s room.

Then Aaron pounces.

Emily’s slammed hard against the wall. It’s unexpected, and yet not, at the same time. She of all people is incredibly familiar with sexual release in place of emotional upheaval. Her arms come up around his neck, giving him all the space his wandering hands want and need. They claw at her shirt until he can get underneath it. Then his hand gets under the elastic of her yoga pants and dives beneath the underwear she wears.

Then there’s two fingers inside her and she arches and gasps. “Oh God.”

His chuckle is low and dark, one that she’s definitely familiar with. Her fingers clench in his neck, nails digging in. She’s going to leave marks, but she’s so wet that her mind is definitely not thinking of any marks she may leave. In fact, she doesn’t really care. His fingers move rough and hard in her, his palm grinding against her with every single thrust. Her hips arch, buck and she gasps with every thrust. It’s hard and fast and he drives her higher and higher until she breaks. He muffles her sound with his mouth.

She slumps against the wall, her knees weak. But he doesn’t give her any time. He’s got her wrist and he’s dragging her down the hall until they make it to his room. He has the presence of mind to lock the door – she’s surprised if she’s honest – then he’s nudging her back towards the bed.

“Strip.”

The voice makes her shiver. It’s a voice her body is also familiar with from months on the phone and via Skype. She knows each nuance of it, the way the volume, the octave, shifts and changes with every mood. It’s been another layer she’s added to her knowledge of him, this one more intimate than most. And she knows this one means no arguing.

She doesn’t bother to make it sexy. From that first orgasm she certainly doesn’t think that there is going to be anything slow or tender about this. Something of it thrills her, that he can’t control the emotions racing through him and he’s using her in the process. She likes that, every once in a while.

He’s naked when she is and he prowls towards her. She backs up until the back of her knees hit the bed. She falls back, doesn’t care and he’s on top of her a moment later. He gets her hands in his, and his mouth starts at her neck. He’s biting, sucking, bruising at her neck and collarbones. Normally, they have rules about bruises where people can see, but she’s not sure he’d even hear her if she said anything.

And, well, she’s not sure she really cares.

His mouth, rough, hard, goes down her collarbones onto her chest. He sucks a mark just above her heart, just beside her scar and her torso bends into his mouth. He bites along her breast until he’s got her nipple in his mouth. Her legs wrap around his hips and his hand goes to her thigh. His fingers dig in, then let go and slide. He sucks hard at her nipple, moaning as she arches and writhes beneath him. His biting kisses continue down her torso. Her hips buck beneath him and he leaves a mark just above her belly button. Then he trails down further, across to her hip. He bites a mark into her hipbone. Her breath is sharp and fast, her hips arching.

“Aaron,” she moans. “Aaron, please. Oh my God, please.”

He gets both hands on her hips, holding her down. Her hands stay above her head and he growls at the picture she makes. Then he’s shooting up her body, getting his mouth on hers. His teeth bite into her bottom lip and she squeaks, her nails scratching down his back. She thinks maybe she’ll leave welts, but considering the bruises she figures maybe it’s a bit like payback. And she definitely likes the idea of leaving her own lasting mark, even if it’s not going to last forever.

He reaches for the bedside table that holds the condoms, ripping one open with his teeth. He rolls it on and then he’s inside her. Her body melts. She’s missed him. Emotionally, too, but _God_ she’s missed him like this. The pleasure is intense. It’s beautiful to have him inside her, not her fingers, not a toy, but _him_. It’s a triumph. A glorious, beautiful triumph. She sighs.

Then he starts moving. Well, moving is a generous term, she thinks. He’s driving her into the mattress and it feels like everything. He doesn’t start slow, he starts fast and hard. Her hands come up around his neck, his hands brace beside her head for leverage. His hips drive down and her hips tilt up and it hits everything just right.

“Yes,” she hisses. “Right there, Aaron. Right there.”

He shifts, grasping her hips, holding them in place. The hard punishing rhythm means everything to her, pushing her hard and fast. Higher and higher, and higher, and she can feel it coiling at the bottom of her spine. It’s going to be good, she knows, she can feel it.

And it is.

He can see it coming, thank God, and his hand snakes up to cover her mouth as she screams her release. He groans his right behind her, when her body is still spasming.

“Mmm,” she hums, as she comes down. She strokes her hand down his back this time. “Feel better?”

His head stays buried in her neck, where he’d dropped it when his release had hit. His breath is still harsh and he’s trembling against her. So she wraps her arms around him and holds on. He doesn’t cry, she knows, because it takes something more than this to make him cry. It took the death of his wife to do so. When he calms, she slides her hands into his hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She gets the whole story then. The whole thing, from start to finish. Sean, the drugs, Erin’s kidnapping, all of it. She listens, lets him tell the story to her neck, then her chest as he shifts. She holds him, can’t do anything but. It’s heartbreaking. It’s another woman that’s died in his arms and she absently wonders how long it’s going to take for him to break.

“Aaron,” she says when he’s done. “There was nothing you could have done.” She cups his head, pressing her fingers in slightly to ensure the protest on the tip of his tongue. “You’re human, honey. You’re all human, and he knew you. The same way Doyle knew me.”

He says nothing and her heart clenches. She can’t help it. She knows she’s always giving, it’s her personality. She gives and gives and gives. She can’t help it. Especially with Aaron. She did after Haley died, she did when she got back, she just does. And right now, she knows, it’s hurting her. But there’s nothing she can do about it. She can’t give him up, she can’t give them up, but she also knows that he’s still holding back.

And with him quite obviously reluctant to talk about it, reluctant to share it hits her hard that maybe, just maybe, nothing’s changed.

She has to hold back her own tears and for very different reasons.


End file.
